


Isolation

by TheLastSparrow



Category: Original Work, post-apocalyptic - Fandom
Genre: Alone, Gen, Isolation, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, POV First Person, POV Original Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 02:37:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20940914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLastSparrow/pseuds/TheLastSparrow
Summary: A pov story told from the perspective of an anonymous character.Surviving in a world where you are the only one left alive.





	Isolation

**Author's Note:**

> Original piece hope to continue writing in the future.

Three years...  
Four months...  
Thirteen days...  
Forty seven minutes...  
Twenty five seconds...

26...27...28.

Life gets repetitious when you are the only person alive. Three year, four months, thirteen days, forty seven minutes and thirty seconds. That's how long its been since I have set eyes on another human being. Wondering the lonely streets, forever looking. The closest thing I have found to a human, was a slumped over corpse still gripping the steering wheel. Corpses still lying in bed, wrapped around loved ones and stuffed animals. All peaceful. But there were still the ones. In cars, laying in the road. Accidents, pile ups. 

When the flu hit, it seemed like any normal case of the flu. Coughing, sneezing, the normal symptoms, except one. You never got better. Your body kept getting worse and worse. Until one day you just didn't wake up? A coma you never come out of. A forever sleep. 

Well for everyone but me, I got the flu. I got sick. I fell into a coma. I woke up. I came out of it. When I woke up, there was no one left. The world was bare. The streets quiet. My family gone. They suffered from what I called. “The Sleeping Beauty Effect.” They all lay in bed, with a somber look of serenity and peace. But are destined to never awake. 

No prince charming, no magic spells. Just pain and depression. Just abandonment and no companionship. No friends, no family. No one. Alone, always. Forever. No to talk to. And now I wander, just walking. I have the bag on my back and the music coming from the Ipod i found in a car. I keep it charged with a charger you use in the car. 

Surviving is easy when there is no one to fight or run from. When you are alone there is no scavenging. Just take what you need and leave. I have stayed in the nicest hotels and been to the nicest places in towns I have traveled through. But the nights get lonely and the days grow longer. I dont even if i know how to speak anymore. 

Three years is a long time to not speak to another person. The only people i had were the voices on my Ipod. And they only brought temporary relief. To have a conversation again. To laugh again would be a dream. To hear a tone or a voice that wasn’t pre-recorded. To be in the presence of another living person, would be amazing. But in three years, no such thing has happened. So I wander and hope one day that I’ll turn a corner and find someone walking up the street. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Was I truly the only person left? Was the entire earth empty, but me? Was I the last person alive? Alone forever? Until I die? What then? The human race ceases to exist? Do we end up like many of the animals that we hunted until permanent death. Extinct, from a thriving species to a weak parasite killed off by the sniffles. Leaving the world in the hands of one person. A person that is slowly going mad from isolation in an open world. How long before my brain snaps and I leap off a building, ending it all. How long before I can’t take the silence any more? 

Days, weeks, months, years pass slowly. Every step I take, every town I migrate through blurs into the next. It’s like one of those time lapse scenes in a movie, where the days pass quickly as the actor walks normal. 

I’ve had to have walked hundreds upon hundreds of miles in the past three years. And have not run into another alive human. What was so special about me that I survived? Why did I wake up? What did I do to deserve a hell like this? Maybe this was my hell. I died, like the other and this was my afterlife. This was eternal punishment. A fear of isolation. Mixed with never ending landscapes. How would I or anyone in this situation know the difference. This world, this life was the epitome of torture. Or in layman's terms. It was fucked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~××××~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sometimes I run. I run until my legs hurt and my lungs burn. I run to feel. The pain let's me know I'm alive, unfortunately. When I run I clear my mind. I focus on nothing but the tell tale signs that my body is at its peak. My vision starts to blur, that's when I know its time to stop. It's time to let my body breathe. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~××××~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the past I have thought about ending it. The thoughts had crossed my mind of making the human race extinct completely. But I'm too much of a wuss to do it. I chicken out whenever I am about to do it. I used to be a happy person. I had friends, I had a family. A life. And now I was alone.


End file.
